Running From The Night
by Kolibri Halliwell
Summary: Someone knocks on Hermione’s door and disappears again as quickly as the wind… The mysterious visit sets off several weird happenings, one leading to another in the end. Continuation to "Gryffindor vs. Slytherin" and "What A Surprise".
1. The Storm

Title: Running From The Night  
  
By: Kolibri Halliwell  
  
Email: kolibrihalliwell@hotmail.com  
  
Summary: Someone knocks on Hermione's door and disappears again as quickly as the wind. The mysterious visit sets off several weird happenings, one leading to another in the end.  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Category: Mystery/Romance/Adventure  
  
Dedicated to: My love, Doc Holliday. I'm forever your's.  
  
Disclaimer: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter and the rest of the characters in the Harry Potter series do not belong to me. They belong to J. K. Rowling as well as Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc.  
  
A/N: I was just sitting home alone when I realised that I want to write! And is there something better than a continuation to "What A Surprise" and "Gryffindor vs. Slytherin"? I suddenly realised that there are so many questions that need an answer, so many things to explain and do! So, here goes nothing.  
  
Chapter One.  
  
The Storm  
  
A bolt of lightning shot through the sky as Hermione flipped over the book she was reading. She let out a soft yawn and pulled up the blanket that was about to slide down her thighs. It was late, really late, probably already morning. It had been raining the whole day today and also the day before and the day before that. The streets of London were soaking wet and they were looking more like small rivers by now. Hermione yawned again and listened to the soft, monotone voice of the rain falling down the roof and the windows. Should she go to sleep yet? She stared carelessly at the book in her hand, another muggle roman, this time it was "Gone With the Wind". She had been reading those her whole life, it was nothing unusual, even if she was fond of wizarding books too. Hermione closed the book with a snap and sighed. There was no idea to continue the chapter, she already felt how her eyelids became heavier for every second. She put the book on her little nightshelf and looked at the alarm clock. It was showing 3.30 in the morning. She sighed again and got out of her bed, just wanting to make herself another cup of cocoa before she fell asleep. She knew the liquid always made her sleep better, she noticed it now, ever since. That happened. Slowly and carefully, she opened the door that led in and out of her room and started to walk on her tip-toes, not wanting to wake up her parents. They, unlike her, had to work tomorrow and they could use some sleep. She sneaked through the corridor and into the open kitchen. She walked straight to the refrigerator and opened it, shivering slightly at the coolness that came from it. She was wearing her warm pyjamas, but that still didn't help, the cold got right through the warm robe and made the hair on her arms rise. She shook her head, trying to shake the feeling off. Then she reached for the package of milk, took it out and placed it on the table. Walking a few steps further ahead, she opened another cabinet and took out a smaller package, marked with the label "Cacao". She obviously knew where everything was, but that wasn't surprising; she was at home, in her house in London. Before she closed the cabinet, you could get a glimps of many other packages, marked with similar lables. Her parents were just as pedantic as she was when it came to the house hold. As soon as she had mixed the cacao and the milk together in a cup, she put it inside the micro and pressed the button, yawning at the same time. While she was waiting for the liquid to get warm enough, she glanced around the kitchen with a tired, uninteressed look while she was leaning against the table. Everything looked very ordinary, just like a simple muggle appartment. The kitchen was small, yet very comfortable looking and you could say the same thing about the rest of the rooms. Every time a stranger walked into the Granger Appartment, he or she smiled immediately and got the feeling of being home at last. They had moved to London a few months ago, when Hermione was still going to Hogwarts, finishing her sixth year. Her parents got a wonderful offer at a dentist clinic and decided to take it. Besides, they thought that they need more change anyways, especially after all those happenings at Hogwarts. Hermione had agreed without starting a fight, she felt that she needed the change too. Silently, she hoped that it would make her forget about him and concentrate on the future, not the past. So far, it wasn't working very well. The most of the furniture in the room, the table, the chairs and the cabinets were painted in a comfortable looking mixture between sand-like color and white. The rain was still pouring down and even if it was already a quarter to four now, the sky was still completely black. She could hear and see the thunder in the horizon, through the small kitchen window. The loud beep interrupted her thread of thought and she woke up from the small trance of hers. As quickly as possible, she opened the micro, took out the cup and started to walk slowly back to her room, leaving the soft light of the small kitchen lamp still on. As she walked back into her room, she put the warm cup on the small table besides the bed, right next to "Gone With the Wind". She silently hoped that she wouldn't splash out the liquid on the charmin face of Rhett Buttler that was on the cover, or Scarlett O'Hara for that matter. A soft smile appeared on the corners of her mouth as she crawled back into her still warm bed and turned of the lamp, making the whole room fall into pleasant darkness. Hermione took a deep breath and smiled, moving the cup toward her lips. She loved the darkness, there was something soothing and calming about it. The rain falling down the roof was increasing the feeling and she yawned once again. Her eyelids were as heavy as rocks by now and she felt that she had to give in. Setting the now half-empty cup back on the table, she corrected her pillows and turned on her one side, leaning her head against them. Still, something stopped her from closing her eyes. She knew what it was, although she didn't want to think about it. It just came back, she couldn't hide from it. But the urge to sleep was too big to resist. She closed her eyes and fell asleep in less than one minute. The rain continued to pour down the building and the rest of the London monotonously, increasing the size of the small rivers that once used to be London streets.  
  
He breathed and felt his hear pounding. He was completely soaked wet, the water was getting right to his bare skin, but he didn't have the time to think about that. Were they still after him? Quickly, he took a deep breath and looked behind the corner, just to see a seemingly empty street. All the stores were closed and everything looked dark and unwelcoming. Even though it was morning now, he felt it, the sky showed no signs of the arising sunlight. The sun was hidden behind black and violet clouds. Another bolt of bright white light shot through the sky and the rain continued to pour down. The weather was almost magical, he couldn't remember a storm that would have lasted this long and that was this strong and powerful. But the street was empty. He was safe for the moment. He let out a sigh of relief and stepped out of the dark alley he was hiding in. He was blending in perfectly with the dark background behind him, wearing his usual black outfit and black coat. The fingerless gloves were completing the sight together with his silvery blond hair and his clear, silver eyes. But for how long? They were getting closer and closer to him for every day. He didn't thought it would be this way when he decided to leave everything behind him. It wasn't as easy as he thought. First, he had been hiding out in simple muggle villages and towns, just bidding his time. He wanted everything to calm down, maybe the Death Eaters would give him a rest and give up. Finally, when he thought he was safe, he went to London, wanting to take the first plane to Egypt. He couldn't use wizarding transport, it was too dangerous - they could track him down. And now, when he arrived, they were almost stepping on his feet again. He had seen them several times before, but they had never been this close. When he saw the men, dressed in black, walking down the street, he knew who they were, what and who they were after. It was a feeling, a sixth sense he got, he knew that they were close. Maybe it was a tiny left-over from the powers of the Dark Mark he once had, he didn't know. Only pure luck had saved him, he knew that. And he also knew that this wasn't a safe place for him to stay, he had to hide somewhere until. Until it was safe again, at least for a few hours. But who and where? The city of London was looking more like the city of Ghosts as Draco began to walk down the street. The water was reaching up to his ankles, but he didn't complain. Too much thoughts were running through his head, he hardly even noticed that the water was leaking inside of his black boots. By now, every time he took a step, there was that unpleasant, lurching sound of weat boots. Who could he contact? Someone who he could trust? There weren't many of those kind of people around anymore. But there had to be someone, someone. Suddenly, he stopped. No. It could be anyone, just not her. He couldn't face her again, not after all these months when he tried to forget about her. There had to be someone else. He sighed and stuffed his hands back into his pockets as he started to walk again. Who was he trying to fool? There was no one else, he knew it. And he needed the couple of hours of rest, he was tired to death. And they were after him, he wasn't safe here, out in the streets. He couldn't turn to one of his fathers friends, they were all somehow connected to Voldemort and the Death Eaters. He took a deep breath. So, it had to be her. He already knew her new adress, even if he was supposedly disappeared, he still had some of his sources left. He knew that she had moved to London a few months ago, shortly after the happenings at the Malfoy Mansion. So, this shouldn't be a problem. Right?  
  
He started to walk faster. Of course it would be a problem. He didn't want to see her again, torn up all the old memories and feelings he was trying to surpress, somehow. And he definitely knew that she didn't want to see him, not after everything he did to her and the things he said. But he didn't have a choice. What was her adress again? Oh yeah, Rivendell Road 9, he remembered the adress almost immediately. In fact, he remembered everything about her, everything she had ever said, the way she smelled, smiled, kissed. He groaned at his own stupid thoughts. Just a few hours. And then he would be gone from this city, this country and leave everything behind him - forever.  
  
She dreamed about him again. And she was completely lost in the dream, just as always. The same dream over and over again. He took her by her hand and smiled. "Hermione," he whispered softly, the dark and sensuel voice made her shiver with pleasure. His silver, metallic eyes sparkled. The white mist was around them, just as always and she couldn't see anything else but him. "Yes?," she whispered back and squeezed his hand gently. She looked into his eyes and saw that he still loved her, he was still thinking and dreaming about her. Slowly, he opened and closed his mouth as if he was trying to say something. His lips formed the words 'I love you', but she didn't hear them. His image was already starting to fade away, just as always. They never got further in the dream. Always the holding hands, the soft whisper and then he disappeared. It was as if he was scared of something, something was holding him back. Hermione let out a worried sigh. She was twisting and turning around in her bed until the blanket fell down to the ground. The dream was still hunting her and she desperately didn't want it to end, to go away, she wanted it to continue, hear what he is going to say. She gasped and stood up with a startled expression on her face. Someone was knocking on the door. 


	2. Dreams

Chapter Two.  
  
Dreams.  
  
Music: "Believe In Me" - Lenny Kravitz, "Hero" - Chad Kroeger of Nickleback.  
  
  
  
There was a moment of silence. Draco took a deep breath, hesitated for a breaf second and knocked on the door again. He knew what chances he took, yet he did it. He had no where else to go. What if her parents would open? What would he say?  
  
Hermione jumped out of the bed, startled from the knock and still shivering because of the bad dream. What the.? Who would knock on the Granger apartment door in the middle of the night?  
  
What if it was an emergency situation? However, she doubted that. Her parents were only dentists, it couldn't be something that important when it came to the teeth. For a moment, she could only hear her own breathing and the rain that poured down the roof and the windows.  
  
Then the knock again.  
  
Someone was still out there, waiting for her to open the door.  
  
Who could that be? In the middle of the night?  
  
Carefully, but quickly, Hermione opened the door to her room, stepped out into the hallway and approached the door. Her parents became extremely quiet and she started to suspect that they were already wide awake.  
  
  
  
Draco breathed heavily. Why wasn't she opening the damn door? It wasn't safe for him to be here, he had to.  
  
Suddenly a sharp pain shot through his left forearm. Oh no.  
  
He groaned and lowered his head. They were after him again, maybe they were even in the same building already, the pain became more constant and torturing.  
  
Open the door. Please, just open the door.  
  
He had nowhere else to go, if she wouldn't open the door, it would be the end for him and the beginning of a soulless monster, the same soulless monster that was ready to devote himself to Voldemort back in the Malfoy Mansion. And Draco would do antyhing to escape from that. Even if it would come to death.  
  
  
  
Hermione leaned her head against the door and listened. She could hear someone breathing and a strange feeling shot through her and reached her heart. Then she pulled herself away from the door and the pace of her heart sped up. Something was strange here, really really strange. She just couldn't put her finger on it.  
  
Another knock.  
  
Slowly, she reached out her hand for the handle of the door. She touched the cool surface with the tip of her fingers, breathing heavily at the same time. Then, finally, she pushed the handle down and forward. The door swung open quickly and their eyes met.  
  
The metal against the brown.  
  
Her heart leaped and she was afraid it would jump out through her throat. Was this a dream, a. some kind of vision? This couldn't be real.  
  
She stared at him as if he was a ghost and he stared back at her.  
  
God, it was so long ago, it seemed like a whole lifetime had gone. But it seemed as if it was yesterday. The last look on her face, her eyes that were filled with pain as she walked down the stairs and out of the Malfoy Mansion.  
  
"Draco," she whispered, still staring at him. Was this really happening?  
  
He didn't even get the chance to respond when the both of them heard the bedroom door opening and Hermione's father walked out, wearing his night gown and having a seriously sleepy expression on his face.  
  
"What's going on?" he blinked with his eyes several times and yawned. Hermione's mother walked out of the bedroom right behind him and the both of them didn't look at the direction of the door at first. But when they finally did, the both of the froze and suddenly they didn't seem sleepy at all as they saw they daughter standing at the door who was wide open and at a blonde boy on the other side of it.  
  
"What the hell is going on?" her father repeated in a more harsh tone now and he looked from Hermione to the boy. Her mother seemed to be just as worried.  
  
"Who is he? Do you know him? What are you doing here in the middle of the night, young man?" the questions ran out of her mouth.  
  
Draco didn't try to dodge one of them. Instead, he kept quiet as he felt how the pain in his left arm increased and his heart raced. He had to get in soon. He looked back at Hermione with a pleading look on his face. He didn't whisper anything, but his eyes spoke for themselves. Hermione nodded slowly, still in a great shock. But she handled the situation extremely well, considering everything.  
  
"Yes," she finally said in a clear voice as she continued to look at Draco. "I know him. He's a friend of mine from Hogwarts and the Knight Buss dropped him off at the wrong spot. He needs a place where he could stay over the night," she lied quickly, hardly even believing what came out of her mouth. She turned around and faced her parents. "Could he stay here?" she asked them straightly. "It's only over the night and besides, as I said before, I know him from Hogwarts."  
  
Hermione's parents looked at her hesitating. Her dad looked at Draco who was still standing on the other side of the door.  
  
"What's your name, boy?" he asked in a milder tone now. Draco cleared his throat as he had to lean against the wall now to maintain his balance. The opening of his black cloak revealed a black sweatshirt with dark green stripes at the edges, black trausers and shining black boots. Even if the weather was terrible outside, he looked as if he had stepped out of a fashion magazine just a minute before. The only thing that revealed what was going on outside was his soaking wet black cloak and the wet stripes in his silvery blond hair.  
  
He couldn't tell his real name, he suspected that Hermione has been talking about him with her parents and the warning look she gave him confirmed his suspicions.  
  
"Dean," he croacked and cleared his throat again. "Dean Thomas. It's a pleasure to meet you both."  
  
"Very well, Dean," Hermione's mother yawned again. "Why don't you come inside and warm yourself? I'm sure you're very tired."  
  
Draco felt how that something that was blocking his air supply let go and he let out a sigh of relief, stepping into the apartment and closing the door behind him rather quickly, but not quickly enough to wake any suspicions in the Granger parents. Hermione on the other hand, was watching him carefully, still having no idea what was going on. What was he doing here, in the middle of the night, after all this time? Two Hogwarts terms had passed since she saw him for the last time. And now he was here, in London in her and her parents appartment in the middle of the night.  
  
What was wrong with this picture?  
  
She didn't know, but she intended to find that out.  
  
If only she could still her beating heart.  
  
"Stop this nonsense," she said quietly to herself. "He'll be gone by tomorrow. And besides, you don't love him anymore," she tried to convince herself.  
  
"Thank you," Draco smiled softly at the parents. As the door closed behind him, he finally felt safe. For a moment. "I'm sorry about disturbing your sleep," he added quickly.  
  
"Oh, it's all right," Hermione's mother said and patted the boy on his shoulder, yawning again. Then she looked at her daughter. "Could you take care of him? He could sleep in the living room on the couch," she said, the sleepyness coming back to her and Hermione's father yawned too.  
  
"Yes, we ought to go back to sleep again," he said. Hermione nodded silently.  
  
"I'll take care of him, don't worry," she said and motioned her parents back into their bedroom. "Thanks again," she smiled gratefully at them. They just smiled weakly and yawned again as they closed the door behind them.  
  
As the door closed, Hermione's face expression changed from sweet and grateful to serious and full of relief.  
  
  
  
"Thank God they were so sleepy," she whispered quietly. Then she looked at Draco and her eyes said everything. He looked at her and his breathing became heavier for every minute while he tried to hide his upcoming weakness. His left arm ached and he suspected that the Death Eaters had been putting a spell on him, a spell that worked even though the Dark Mark wasn't there anymore.  
  
"I'll tell you everything," he said quietly and glanced at the bedroom door. "Just not. here." Hermione nodded slowly and showed that she understood as she started to walk towards the kitchen, looking behind her shoulder and checking whether he was following or not. He followed her the best he could and the muscles in his face moved a bit because of the pain. As the both of them walked into the kitchen and the soft light from the lamp shined down on Draco, Hermione noticed how pale he really was, something she couldn't see in the darkness in the hallway. Draco slid down in one of the chairs and took a deep breath as some water dropped from his cloak down to the floor. His face didn't show much of what he felt inside right now and it costed him a great deal of strength to keep it that way.  
  
Hermione glanced at his tired face. She didn't know what he was doing here after all this time, but she knew that her questions had to wait. She could recognize a human being in pain when she saw one, even if he tried to hide it and was almost suceeding. Quickly, she reached out her hands and helped to get the wet cloak of him, not caring about the water that dropped down on her pyjamas. She folded it and then glanced at Draco's wet hair.  
  
"Wait, just let me get you a towel," she whispered and left the kitchen, just to come back in a few seconds without the cloak and with a towel in her hands. She handed it to him and he took it gratefully, starting to dry his hair and clothes with it. As he did that, she watched him carefully and felt how the old memories swept over her. She couldn't believe what a sentimental fool she was, but she just couldn't help it. Every movement he did, made her heart leap. The way his silvery blond, wet hair was sparkling in the light.  
  
"Pull yourself together," her mind hissed to her heart. "and ask him what he wants."  
  
Hermione crossed her arms and sat down in a chair on the opposite side of the table, looking at Draco with a careful gaze.  
  
"I suppose you are not here for a simple visit," she scolded coldly.  
  
Draco nodded almost invisibly. He noticed how her attitude changed, but he didn't make any of his usual remarks. He was too busy trying to calm down, he could still feel the Death Eaters breathing down his neck. She was his only way out of this and he knew he had made the right decision when he chose to knock on her door. Even if it brought up old and painful memories, he knew there was nothing else that could be done.  
  
"Yes," he finally spoke in his usual rather dark voice. "I had my reasons to knock on your door in the middle of the night."  
  
Hermione furrowed her brow and leaned backwards in the chair. "Care to share them with me?"  
  
Draco paused. "No, not really. But-" he stopped her from speaking again. "before you start accusing me, I must tell you that I'm very, very grateful for what you did back there," he looked right into her eyes. "And I'm also thankful that you allowed me to stay here over the night. I promise I'll be gone by the morning."  
  
"Don't think that lying to my parents for your sake is something I'm proud of," she snapped and her eyes flashed.  
  
A small grin appeared in the corners of Draco's mouth. Oh, he recognized that quick temper and he knew exactly how to handle it. For a moment, he forgot about the past year when he had to hide all around England and the reason why he was actually in Hermione's appartment, in London.  
  
"Well, you didn't have to lie that much," he said in a rather careless tone. "I'm still your friend from Hogwarts, am I not?"  
  
Hermione stared at him. She had expected him to get angry at her or apologize, but she didn't expect him to question her like this. Even if she understood why he did it, she didn't even know what she felt for him herself anymore.  
  
"If I recall correctly, last time we met you said that you didn't love me and you went of to God-knows-where, leaving the Malfoy Mansion deserted and a thousand questions hanging over our, mine and Harry's head when we returned back to Hogwarts. And that was a year ago. A year," she paused and glanced at him, expecting him to say something. But he didn't, he just looked at her with his metallic, expressionless eyes. She sighed and looked away, finally standing up and walking over to the small window and looking out in the night. It was still raining. Finally she turned around and faced him.  
  
"Sheesh Draco, what do you expect me to do?" she said angrily and glared at him. "Throw myself over you, kiss you, tell you how much I've missed you?"  
  
Draco looked down at the floor, avoiding her gaze and not showing her how his eyes were filled with pain that made them look like melt silver. He wasn't angry at her, in fact, he understood her very well. A part of him blamed himself for being so ignorant towards her, maybe he could've sent her a message somehow, letting her know that he was okay. But another part of him reminded him why he dropped all contact with her, the rest of the people at Hogwarts and everyone else.  
  
To protect them. To protect them from being dragged into another farse that was started by him. Hermione had been suffering already too much because of him, he wasn't going to let her go through something like that again, no way. He lov. He cared about her too much.  
  
He regretted that this had to be that way.  
  
Only a few hours. Only a few hours.  
  
"No," he said after a minute of painful silence. "I don't," he looked up at her and now his face was expressionless again. "I don't expect anything from you and as I said before, I really appreciate this," he said the words with some struggle. Everything started to come down on him, the fact that he hadn't been sleeping for several days, the pain in his left arm, this conversation and what waited him ahead. He knew that he couldn't keep this mask up much longer. "Now, if you don't mind too much, could you show me where I could sleep?" he said quietly and looked at her.  
  
She nodded slowly and didn't find any words to say. There was something extremely painful about this moment, something that reached into the depths of her heart.  
  
He stood up and she walked him to the living room, helping him to get the couch ready without even saying one word. Then she showed him the way to the bathroom and made him a cup of tea while he was there.  
  
When he came back, she handed him the cup and he smiled weakly at her.  
  
"Well, if there isn't anything else." she trailed off and spoke to his shoulder. He shook his head.  
  
"Thank you for everything, again," he whispered. Then Hermione, not finding any words except 'you're welcome' and 'good night', walked out of the living room and closed the door behind her. There she sighed heavily and sat down in her bed with her hands lying peacefully in her lap.  
  
She was just too tired.  
  
She yawned softly as she put the blankets over her, completely convinced that she had dreamed the whole thing and when she would open her eyes next time, there wouldn't be a Draco Malfoy lying in the living room couch, pretending to be Dean Thomas.  
  
  
  
Draco crawled into the couch, leaving the cup of the tea that was now on the table, untouched. Finally, he could let all his worries go and it was as if a giant rock fell of his heart.  
  
He was alone.  
  
Everything disappeared behind the heavy doors of the Dream World. Everything except the face of a girl with a beautiful smile and warm brown eyes. 


	3. The Call

Chapter Three.  
  
The Call.  
  
Draco was the first one to wake up. He woke up early in the morning, it was nearly dawn. He had just been sleeping a couple of hours but still he felt that he was much stronger and the Dark Mark didn't hurt anymore. Maybe they had given up on finding him?  
  
He opened his eyes slowly.  
  
Wow, this place was rather nice, even if it was muggle-ish. He yawned and stretched himself, wondering where he had found this nice appartment and who was the host of it.  
  
He stood up from the sofa and while he was dressing, his gaze fell over a certain picture that was placed on a shelf and that made him freeze immediately.  
  
It was a picture of a girl, maybe five or six years old. Her brown bushy hair was standing out, her brown eyes sparkled and she was laughing happily, holding an ice cream in one hand. A rather tall, brown haired male was holding her other hand and a woman was standing on the other side of the small girl. They were probably at some kind of entertainment park since you could see a clown in the background. It was the perfect family picture.  
  
He could recognize the girl anywhere. It was Hermione.  
  
Suddenly memories from yesterdays happenings started to come back to him and he finally realized that he wasn't at any other place than the Granger Appartment.  
  
He groaned and ran a hand over his face.  
  
He had to get out of here as soon as possible. The best thing was if they even wouldn't see him. Of course, he would get Hermione into trouble and she would have to explain why her guest mysteriously disappeared without even saying goodbye but he also knew that he would get her even into more trouble if he would stay. He hoped that the Death Eaters had stopped looking for him, but he didn't count on it. While he was here, in London, he was very vulnerable and everyone and everything he would touch would be examined by the Death Eaters who were certainly still on his tracks.  
  
  
  
Hermione woke up with a start and looked around the room. Something was wrong, she felt it.  
  
What had happened last night?  
  
She groaned as she remembered everything and jumped out of the bed immediately, almost tilting the cocoa cup she had made last night. She dressed herself quickly with several thoughts running through her head. She couldn't believe this. She just couldn't believe this. Draco Malfoy was in her own. no, her parents and hers appartment right this very second. It was unbelievable. She hadn't seen him for a year and now he just shows up, so damn confident about himself, as if knowing that she would just let him in like that and.  
  
No. She stopped in her tracks.  
  
Now she was making things up. She only had herself to blame, she had listened to his begging face expression and the seemable pain in his eyes. She sighed and sat down back in the bed for a moment, putting her hands together in her lap. She stared out through the window and closed her eyes, half hoping that everything had been a dream.  
  
But she knew it wasn't.  
  
Oh, he had some explaining to do.  
  
  
  
It took him only about two seconds to realize this. Quickly, he put on the rest of the clothes, left a note for Hermione on the shelf with the picture and was about to creep slowly out into the hall and get his cloak, when a voice suddenly stopped him.  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
Draco sighed and turned around, facing Hermione.  
  
"Good morning to you too. Where's the bathroom now again?"  
  
Hermione shot him a suspicious look, but pointed at a door that was farther down the hall.  
  
"Thanks," he grinned at her and walked into the bathroom. After a couple of seonds, he slowly opened the door again and peeked out, checking whether she was still there.  
  
Hermione wasn't there anymore and he could hear sounds coming from the kitchen. She must be making breakfast.  
  
Slowly and very carefully, Draco tip-toed out of the bathroom and closed the door quietly behind him. He glanced around at the door he recalled was leading to Hermione's parents bedroom. Everything was quiet there and he couldn't hear a sound. Maybe they had already left? He didn't know.  
  
Keeping it very quiet, he continued his way down the hall, side stepping the spots where he could be seen from the kitchen. Finally he reached the door that was leading out of the apartment. He picked up his cloak and quietly pushed the door handle forwards.  
  
The door opened without even the tiniest squeak and he silently thanked for that. He stepped outside and carefully, very carefully, closed the door. Then he stepped down the stairs with soundless steps and was finally outside the building.  
  
  
  
"Draco?" Hermione stepped out into the hallway as she heard a noise of a door closing. She looked at the bathroom door and approached it quietly, knocking on it.  
  
"Draco?"  
  
No answer.  
  
Something was wrong with this picture. She knocked on the door again. "Draco, are you there?"  
  
Still no answer.  
  
She knocked again, but this time she knew no one would answer. She bent down the handle and pushed it backwards.  
  
The bathroom was empty, just as she had suspected. She closed it and stood in the empty hallway for a moment.  
  
She should've know that he would disappear like this, she should've known.  
  
She walked into the living room and looked out through the window, tracing a hand down the surface of the glass. It was a rather cloudy day and maybe it would rain again later.  
  
Her mind was thoughtless as she just looked out through the window. Suddenly she saw something in the reflection, something that caught her eye. There was a tiny note attached to a picture, showing Hermione when she was five years old, together with her parents.  
  
She turned around and looked at the shelf. Yes, the note was still there. She reached out her hand for it and saw that it was adressed to her in nice handwriting. She unfolded the note with trembling fingers and read the few words on it.  
  
"You looked a lot less bossier when you were younger. Draco  
  
P.S. Thank you. For everything."  
  
Hermione stared at the note for a moment, trying to make something out of it, read between the lines as if hoping that his words had some kind of a deeper meaning.  
  
You looked a lot less bossier when you were younger?!  
  
Hermione re-read the small note several times, making sure that she hadn't missed a word or that she had read it right.  
  
Thank you. For everything.  
  
That's all he had to say.  
  
Hermione's hands ripped the note into small pieces that fell down to the ground. For a moment she just wanted to kick someone or something so bad. But then she calmed down.  
  
"Oh no, you weren't getting away with it so easy this time, Draco Malfoy," she thought as she paced back and forth the living room, putting her arms on her back. "You're not going to disappear like this again and I'm not going to way another year just to see you and let you run away again. Not again."  
  
She gritted her teeth.  
  
Where could he had gone?  
  
She didn't have a clue, she had no idea where he could be. She only had a mere idea who he was running from. She suspected that the Death Eaters were after him, trying to get revenge for the happenings at Malfoy Mansion and the death of his father, Lucius Malfoy.  
  
She didn't believe the rumours that he had killed his mother too, she just didn't. She knew that they had found her in her room in the empty Mansion and she also knew that he was the last one to leave, but she didn't believe that he had killed her. She remembered how he had talked about his father, his voice full of hatred. And she also remembered the cold night in the dungeons when a flash of green light had shot out of his wand.  
  
She closed her eyes as she remembered. She remembered the nightmares.  
  
But she also knew why he had done it. He had been torturing both him and his mother. And now he was torturing Hermione.  
  
In the depths of her heart she knew that he loved her. She just knew it, it was nothing she had to think or wonder about, she knew he loved her. But she didn't know why he lied, why he ran away from her, avoided her gaze every time she looked at him. Why.  
  
She sighed and finally stopped pacing through the room as the memories were flooding through her, memories she had pushed away in the very back corner of her mind and closed the door with seven keys. Now the door was wide open again and the memories took her over.  
  
And all of this because of one visit. One mysterious, unexpected visit in the middle of the night.  
  
Her heart was beating in a slow pace as she was thinking.  
  
She loved him. She knew that someone or something was after him, probably Death Eaters, and even if he didn't admit it, he needed help. He had been fighting against them, running away from them a whole year but she suspected that he wouldn't hold out that much longer.  
  
She wanted to help him but she didn't know how. How could she help him if he was running away from her?  
  
Suddenly a thought struck her.  
  
There was someone who he had once truly hated. Someone who had once been his most fiercly hated enemy.  
  
But things had changed at the Malfoy Mansion, she knew it.  
  
Harry had saved Draco. He had freed him from the Dark Mark with the Necklace of the Light.  
  
And she knew that when a wizard saves another, it makes a deep, magical bond between them that's unbreakable.  
  
Draco owed Harry.  
  
And maybe. maybe if Harry would try to find him, maybe Draco wouldn't run away from him, maybe he would talk to him.  
  
Maybe.  
  
It was worth a shot, Hermione figured. After all, what was the worth thing that could happen?  
  
She dismissed the thought of Harry returning from the meeting with a cut lip and a black eye as she hurried herself back into the hallway and over to the muggle telephone. She opened the notebook that was on the table right next to the phone and quickly searched for the Dursley's number. She had never tried to contact Harry by the muggle telephone as she remembered the time when Ron phoned him and Uncle Vernon was the one to answer the phone. Ron was from a Wizard family and he knew very little about muggle technical stuff, that's why he had acted very weird and screamed in the telephone as if the Dursleys were living a world away. Harry had gotten in trouble after that and when Ron warned Hermione, she had listened to his advice, even though she knew how to use a phone since she came from a Muggle family. She had never seen a reason to make Harry a call until today anyways.  
  
But now she had to do it. She had to contact him.  
  
She dialed up the number quickly and soon she heard a pair of long beeps. Then someone picked up the phone.  
  
"The Dursleys Residence, Aunt Petunia here," said a rather airy woman voice. Hermione chuckled quietly as she heard her say 'Residence'. The Dudleys were living in a two-floored villa, that could hardly be called 'Residence'. Then Hermione cleared her throat.  
  
"Good day, Mrs. Dursley," Hermione beamed and said the first thing she thought of. "I'm calling from the town's library regarding a." she paused as if she was checking some kind of papers. "Mr. Potter. Have I dialed up the right number?"  
  
There was a rather long pause. "Yes," Aunt Petunia finally answered very shortly and very coldly. "I didn't know that boy was loaning books at the library, why would he need them when he spends the most of the years at that." she trailed off. There was another long pause which made Hermione's heart beat in a very fast rhythm, what if she would fail and Aunt Petunia would see through her and just hang up?  
  
"Well, he hasn't returned a book which should've been in two weeks ago and I decided to call up the young boy and ask him about his tardiness," Hermione continued in a voice she hoped sounded grown-up enough.  
  
"That boy always gets in trouble," Aunt Petunia continued coldly. "Although I didn't know that. Hm, very well. One minute please."  
  
Hermione could hear a sound when the phone was laid down against the surface of the table and make out a yell "You! Yeah, you! There's a librarian on the phone for you! You haven't returned a book or something."  
  
Hermione prayed silently that Harry wouldn't ask too many questions and just pick up the phone. By now she was chewing on her nails. Apparently her prayers were answered because she heard a noise again when the phone was picked back up and short afterwards a voice that sounded so familiar.  
  
"Yes?" a boys voice whispered carefully.  
  
Hermione let out a great sigh of relief. "Harry, it's me, Hermione," she said.  
  
Then she heard yet another sound, everything in the background of Harry's voice got more quieter and she could hear him clearer.  
  
"I just locked myself into the cupboard, I hope that they won't notice, but you have to be quick. I thought it was you," he said and she could almost hear that grin in his voice. "Clever one, Herm. Aunt Petunia ate it like chocolate."  
  
She grinned. "Thanks Harry, but I really had to talk to you, this is not just a friendly call."  
  
"Well, what has happened?" his voice got more serious.  
  
"You will never believe this," she said.  
  
"Try me," she could hear the grin in his voice again. "This can't be worse than finding out that Snape wears pink underwear."  
  
"Harry."  
  
"Sorry, I couldn't resist. So, tell me."  
  
"Someone knocked on the door to my appartment yesterday, Harry, in the middle of the night. Someone we both know very well and who we haven't seen in oh, let's say a year?"  
  
A short pause. "No, you really can't mean that-"  
  
"Yes I can, Harry. Draco Malfoy just payed me a visit." 


	4. Harry's Visit

Chapter Four.  
  
Harry's Visit.  
  
Surprisingly enough Harry was standing in the Granger Appartment living room exactly one week later. He had excused himself from Dursleys by saying that he was going to live with Ron's family for the rest of the summer and they didn't ask him many questions, glad that they would get rid off him. They didn't even ask how he was going to get there and Harry didn't say. He arranged to meet Hermione's parents a few streets away from Private Drive and they would take him to Hermione. Hermione had told her parents about how badly Harry is threated at the Dursleys and since they had heard so much about him and even met him once at the Diagon Alley, they kindly offered Harry to live with them for the rest of the summer. They were very busy right now, completely wrapped up in their work, that's why they were hardly home and couldn't know that the both kids were doing somewhat of an investigation.  
  
Hermione and Harry had a reason to do this. As they had talked over the phone, Harry had finally agreed to help Hermione find Draco and talk to him on the condition that he would still be in London. He had also revealed to Hermione that Draco had told him that he had some plans to go to Egypt when they were at the Malfoy Mansion. Hermione wasn't that surprised, but the both of them calmed down since they knew that the storms were still going on and the flights to forreign countries were canceled for a while. So, the both of them silently hoped that the storms would continue to go on for a very ong while.  
  
Hermione had considered the fact that maybe he would use some kind of magical transport but Harry reminded her that if Death Eaters were after him just as she suspected, then he wouldn't take such big risk. "So, you're sure that he's going by a muggle transport?" Hermione had asked him as she was pacing back and forth the living room while he was standing calmly and looking out through the window.  
  
"Yes I'm positive," Harry replied and watched the heavy rain fall down from the almost black sky and the wind howl. In the kind of weather he was sure that Draco wouldn't leave town. But it wasn't specially nice weather for him and Hermione run all around London, trying to find a sixteen year old boy.  
  
He wasn't even sure why he did this. Mostly, he guessed, because of Hermione. The love he had felt for her through these years had slowly turned into a very strong friendship after Draco had disappeared. He saw how she suffered and how she loved him; that's why he did his best to help and comfort her, cheer her up and try to take her mind of him. He still loved Hermione in a sort of way. He loved her as a friend. He just hoped that she knew what he was doing. Harry's dislike for Draco wasn't that big at all as it was before because now he knew him much better, but he also knew that the boy was in serious trouble, he was on the run. And Harry knew that Draco loved Hermione but this was a completely hopeless situation. He realized that and so did Draco; the only person who didn't seem to do that was Hermione.  
  
Harry glanced at his friend who continued to pace back and forth the room with a serious don't-talk-to-me-I'm-thinking look on her face. So his gaze returned back to the window.  
  
He suddenly missed Ron; he wished his friend could be here with him. But he couldn't get Ron involved in this, he had made a promise to Dumbledore that no one would find out about the happenings at the Malfoy Mansion and he intended to keep his promise, even if he had to keep it from his best friend. Ron was asking some questions at first but when Harry told him about the promise he had made to Dumbledore, he didn't insist anymore. A wizards promise was a wizards promise, it was more like a magical bond.  
  
No one knew about what had happened at the Malfoy Mansion except for Harry, Hermione, some of the teachers at Hogwarts, Aurors, Draco, Death Eaters. okay, so, quite many people knew about what had happened. But none of them would ever tell for different reasons.  
  
And Harry wouldn't because of his promise.  
  
"If he only had left me some kind of sign." Hermiones growling voice returned him back to reality and he looked at her.  
  
"But no, all he left was a stupid note and then he just ran away like that," she continued and sighed. "How are we supposed to find him now? London is a big city."  
  
Harry tried to help her and got a thoughtful look on his face. "Do you know whether he has any friends in London besides you?"  
  
Hermione shook her head. "No, he never mentioned any to me. We rarerly talked about him at all and now I know why," she frowned slightly, finally stopped to walk and faced Harry. "And if he did have any friends, he couldn't go to them anyway, not now," she said.  
  
"Why not?" Harry furrowed a brow and gave Hermione a questioning look. "Because all his friends are probably somehow connected to Death Eaters and Dark Arts," Hermione said rather patiently, but Harry could see that she was restless. "Good point," he said. He crossed his arms behind his back, looking out through the window. "Now, where would a man on the run hide if he had no friends and nowhere to go?"  
  
Hermione looked at him as if she had just realized something very important.  
  
"Harry," she said quietly and seriously. "Do you have your Reverse Spell Necklace?"  
  
"Yes," Harry said after a short pause and glanced at Hermione. "I have it with me right here, I'm rarely without it." He reached for something in his pocket and there it was. The Reverse Necklace, lying peacefully in his palm.  
  
It looked very ordinary. It was nothing but a silver chain and a silver 'H' that was hanging from it and it wouldn't reveal any of its powers if it wouldn't have a special, magical glow around it. Harry knew that his parents were the ones who added the 'H' for Harry, still, he wondered where they had gotten the Reverse Necklace itself from. It was ancient and had been used by Good Wizards who fought evil even thousand years ago.  
  
The Necklace was a key to many things that had happened at the Malfoy Mansion and when everything had been over, Albus Dumbledore had wanted him to keep it.  
  
Harry had gotten the necklace from his mother when Draco had put a spell on him and had sent Harry to the Inbetween so that he was unable to wake up. There he had met his mother and he had talked to her. She gave him a necklace he was really supposed to get for his second birthday. Somehow he had also managed to return from the Inbetween to the Malfoy Mansion where Draco had taken his body.  
  
He didn't know what kind of powers the necklace held until he stood face-to- face with Voldemort. The Reverse Spell Necklace attracted and killed evil at the same time. The Necklace was filled with Good Power and every time it got near a Death Eater, it started to glow and concentrated its power on the Dark Mark, the source of the evil, finally making it disappear.  
  
That's how he had freed Draco from his Dark Mark, that's how he had made it go away.  
  
That's also how he had made Voldemort disapparate from the Malfoy Mansion, the good that was radiating from the Necklace was just too much for him to take. That was also the reason why Harry kept it - it protected him from Voldemort.  
  
The bad thing with the Necklace was that it attracted evil. It wanted to haunt down everything, all Death Eaters withing the radius of several miles.  
  
Hermione smiled.  
  
"Well," she said slowly and clearly. "Don't you think we could maybe use it to track down Draco?"  
  
Harry got a puzzled face expression. "How? He doesn't have the Dark Mark anymore."  
  
"But he once had it," Hermione said. "And even if he doesn't have it now, it has left a mark on him, a mark that's not removable. I read that in "Uppraisals and Downfalls of Evil"."  
  
"So you think that we can use it to track down Draco?"  
  
Hermione shrugged slightly but the shrug couldn't hide the excitement and anticipation in her eyes. "Yes, I think it should work."  
  
Harry glanced down at the necklace which was innocently shimmering with that silver light.  
  
The thing was that he wasn't sure whether he wanted to use it. He remembered that it attracted evil and that's something he was always a magnet for. If he used the necklace, the magnet would increase in its power even more.  
  
He looked at it doubtfully and then back at Hermione. It wasn't like her to be this way, she was always the voice of reason. And he was sure that she knew about the Necklace attracting evil, but he figured that either she had forgotten about it or just didn't want to remember because she didn't want to see the down side with this situation.  
  
But he wanted to help her, he knew how bad she wanted this. And in his heart he also knew that he wanted to find Draco and somehow try to help him. If the Necklace would be strong enough, he could make up a shield that would protect him. but the Necklace wasn't strong enough.  
  
Hermione had told him that, if used properly, the Necklace would have incredible, breathtaking powers. Obviously, Harry hadn't figured out how to 'use it properly'. What happened at the Malfoy Mansion was merely a weak shadow of what powers the Necklace had.  
  
And if only he could figure out how to use it. Then he wouldn't have to worry about Voldemort anymore, he could protect both himself and everyone else by using the Reverse Necklace.  
  
"Okay, let's give it a try," he finally said and looked up at Hermione. Her eyes lit up in satisfaction.  
  
  
  
Draco took a deep breath, something he hadn't done for these last fifteen minutes. He was hiding in an abandoned house that was about to fall apart and just a few minutes ago he had thought that he had heard people whispering, talking and footsteps several rooms away from him, at the Entrance.  
  
But it had been a mistake, everything was quiet and there was no one there. Maybe he was so tired now that he was seeing things. Or maybe there really had been someone there and they were just waiting for an opportunity, for the right moment to strike at him.  
  
He hadn't been sleeping for days now, he couldn't sleep at nights because he was listening for footsteps and sounds all the time. Sometimes he thought he heard them and he had to change his location, hide somewhere else. He hadn't been eating for days either and his pale face was now almost ghostlike. His silvery eyes tired and the spark in them was gone.  
  
He knew he was starting to hear things and he was also pretty sure that he had lost his mind. He couldn't sleep anymore, even if everything was quiet and there was no silent threat, he couldn't sleep. Then he just lay there with his eyes open, wide awake the whole night and thought about Hermione.  
  
He was glad that he had ran away from her, she didn't deserve to be dragged into this. He could say it now, he loved her too much to let her go through this.  
  
And he cursed the rain, the storms, the awful weather overall. That was the only thing that stopped him from getting out of here, away from the Death Eaters and Voldemort.  
  
The airports were closed and he knew that he couldn't use any kind of magical transport, it was too risky, Death Eaters would track him down much easier.  
  
So he waited. He waited and prayed, hoped that if he would just have some little luck (something he hadn't had for a very long) the weather would improve, they would re-open the airports and he would get the hell out of here.  
  
But until then.  
  
He glanced around again and closed his eyes as he pressed his ear against the ground, listening for sounds that would give away an awaiting attacker.  
  
This house he was hiding in had been abandoned a long time ago and it was about to fall apart, but that's exactly why he used it. No one would expect anyone to be in here, not if he wanted to stay alive.  
  
It had two floors and he was hiding in the first one; he figured that it wasn't specially smart to hide in the second floor because if the Death Eaters would attack, he would have a much it much tougher when he would try to find away to get out of there.  
  
So he listened. He listened, pressing his ear against the floor if he could hear the slightest footsteps.  
  
Silence.  
  
There was no one there.  
  
He sighed and then positioned himself with his back and head against the wall. His black clothes were dusty, his silvery hair was dirty and his pale face was literally radiating his tiredness.  
  
He closed his eyes for a moment, a luxury he couldn't afford very often. He could hear the rain falling down the rooftops and a bolt of lightning shot through the black sky. He reckoned it had to be evening, but he wasn't sure. The weather was like this all the time, day or night and he was starting to lose all track of time.  
  
He glanced around the room.  
  
No furniture, wood floor and a pair of windows that were sealed in the wall on the left side of him. There wasn't a door, but the wall had an opening his right side, an opening which was leading to the next room and then to the exit door.  
  
He took a deep breath and listened to the sound of the rain falling and the wind howling above him. 


	5. Ghost

Chapter Five  
  
Ghost.  
  
A/N: I apologize that this chapter is so short. But nothing else could fit in it, it had to be like this.  
  
The next day Hermione and Harry were standing in front of the pub Leaky Cauldron in the very heart of the city of London. It was a pub only for witches and wizards, it was unplottable for the eyes of all muggles. It was getting dark and the streets were lit up by bright lights, making the whole city look mysteriously magical. It wasn't raining, but the sky was very dark and Harry suspected that there would be a storm later tonight.  
  
"Why the Leaky Cauldron?" Hermione said and looked away from the pub to Harry. "This is the place he would least likely show up. It's filled with travelers from different sides of the world and who knows, maybe even a You- Know-Who's servant could sneak inside there."  
  
"Well, we have to get started somewhere, don't we?" Harry said and pushed the front door open. "Besides, someone might've heard something. His family is well-known after all, someone might've heard something about Draco hiding somewhere. And. I want to use the Activity Map."  
  
"The Activity Map?" Hermione spoke a bit louder as she followed Harry into the pub and the sound of people's chatter surrounded them immediately. The pub was a dark room, filled with a strange, yet rather appealing scent. People were sitting at the tables, playing cards, talking or drinking a drink that was made by the bartender Tom.  
  
"Yes," Harry started to speak a bit louder as the both of them started to walk towards the bar. "It's something I discovered when I stayed here at the Leaky Cauldron the year when Sirius escaped from Azkaban and I ran away from the Dursleys when I blew up Aunt Marge. They have a map here over all the magical activity here in town. I figured that Draco might've comed here and looked at it, searching for the safest place for him to hide."  
  
Hermione nodded aprovingly. "That's a good idea Harry, you might be right."  
  
"Well, what is it goin' to be then?" a croaky old mans voice interrupted them. The Bartender Tom was cleaning a beer glass, standing with his back towards Harry and Hermione. "We have all sorts of drinks here, everythin' from Buterbeer, just imported from Hogsmeade, to Ogdens Strongest Blasting Fire Whisky-" he stopped as he finally turned around and saw who he was talking to.  
  
"Uh, hello again," Harry said.  
  
"Oh, look if it ain't Harry Potter," Tom The Bartender grinned, revealing a pair of gold teeth. "Together with an absolutely charming young lady. Welcome welcome the both of you, what can I do for you?"  
  
"Well, we would like to take a look at the Activity Map," Harry said. Tom shook his head, revealing a bold spot in his grey hair.  
  
"No can do, Mr. Potter. We took it down."  
  
"You took it down?" Hermione said with a hint of desperation in her voice. "But why?"  
  
"Because a strange fella came in a few days earlier and he tried to steal it," Tom answered with a shrug. "We don't know why anyone would try to steal a simple Magical Activity Map but it almost did happen and now we're very careful, we don't like to show it to no one."  
  
Draco? A thought flashed through Harry's and Hermione's heads at the same time. Why would he try to steal it?  
  
Harry shot a glance at Hermione, as if making sure that they were thinking the same thing. Then he looked back at Tom.  
  
"Uhm, you don't happen to know how the one who tried to steal the Map looked like, do you?"  
  
Tom nodded eagerly. "I sure do, Mr. Potter, I was right here at the bar when everythin' happened, I was takin' an extra shift, I don't do it anymore though. I wish I hadn't done it that evenin'."  
  
Both Hermione and Harry leaned against the bar to hear every word. "Please, do go on, tell us," Hermione said, her eyes had widened a bit with suspense.  
  
"All righ then," Tom said with a sigh as he set down the beer glass. His face was half hidden behind the thick air and smoke that was filling the pub. "It was very odd actually, very odd. The pub was filled with people that evenin', everyone was celebratin' as England beat Germany in Quidditch, ah yes, that was a spectacular game, the Reverse Pass James Roland did was truly amazin', professional class I say. Anyway. The pub was full as I said before. I was completely wrapped up in my work when this stranger approaches me. Of course, the Leaky Cauldron is a meeting place for many travelers and there really wasn't anything special about this man, but still, something about him gave me the chills I say."  
  
"How did he look like?" Harry asked.  
  
"That's the strange part about it, I don't know," Tom answered. "He was wearin' a black cloak that covered up his face and the rest of his body, but I for sure know that he was a grown-up, I could tell that by the dark voice."  
  
Harry and Hermione looked at each other again, then back to the Bartender.  
  
"And then he asked me, in a dark hiss, about the Activity Map," Tom continued. "And I told him, yes, we have one. And then I showed it to him. Of course, I didn't suspect anythin' and turned around to serve another guest and as I looked back at the stranger, he was about to walk out of the pub in a great hurry. He had taken the Map, but luckily enough it slipped out of his hands and fell down to the floor. He didn't have the time to get it back either, he just ran away," the bartender finished. "So that's why we're not showing it to anyone anymore, we can't even make an exception for Mr. Potter and his lovely friend."  
  
Hermione swallowed and looked at Harry. Could Draco really have done this? And if he did this, then why?  
  
"Well, thank you for sharing this with us," Harry finally said. He and Hermione turned away to walk away when Tom made them freeze in their tracks.  
  
"Oh, one more thing, I almost forgot to tell you," he said. The both of them turned around and looked at the bartender.  
  
"There was someone else who was lookin' at the Map the same day, earlier," Tom said. "He was wearing a cloak too, but he seemed to be younger."  
  
Hermione's heart started to beat faster.  
  
"Yes, now I remember it clearly," Tom said thoughtfully as he served a glass of whisky to a grumpy looking wizard. "He was here about three or four hours before that stranger. He also wanted to look at the Map. And he did that, then he walked away without saying another word. Very mysterious lookin' fella, indeed. Didn't even say his name or anythin', just like that other one.  
  
I wonder what's goin' on though," Tom continued in his thoughful tone as he handed two young witches two glass of buterbeer. "Strange things have been goin' around here lately, strange things indeed. Maybe the rumours about You-Know-Who raisin' again are true after all." He fell silent, as if he was lost in thought. Then he looked back at Hermione and Harry, giving them a smile.  
  
"Oh, here's an advice for you kids, never listen to an old bartender, they can just never stop, they keep on talkin' and talkin' and talkin'. Well, have a nice day you two!"  
  
Harry and Hermione walked out of the Leaky Cauldron with their heads buzzing with thoughts.  
  
Draco opened his eyes. It had stopped raining and it was very quiet.  
  
How long had he slept? He had no idea, he had lost all track of time a long time ago. But he felt very awake and up-beat, that must mean that he had slept for a fairly long time. He guessed that the lack of sleep had finally gotten to him.  
  
He tried to stand up and his whole back and neck ached immediately, making him twinge. He hadn't moved as he fell asleep and now his muscles were sore and painful. His head was aching too and his eyes hurt. He groaned silently and massaged his neck with his right hand as he got up. He looked around the room. From the dim light in the room he understood that it must be evening. He turned his head to look out through the window.  
  
He thought that his heart would leap out through his mouth. His whole body shivered coldly and he couldn't move while he kept his eyes fixed on the pale face of the person who was staring back at him.  
  
This wasn't happening, this couldn't be happening. This was a nightmare.  
  
His eyevision got blurry for a moment and he thought that he would faint. He blinked with his eyes and tried to regain his balance.  
  
As he opened his eyes again, the person was gone. There was nothing outside the window, just the black sky.  
  
He blinked again and continued to stare at the window. What was going on, was he still asleep? Please, please, let this be a nightmare. he couldn't possible had seen that person, it wasn't even imaginable.  
  
He remembered the last time he had seen him. In the cold dungeons of the Malfoy Mansion. He remembered it so well. He remembered how his anger and his hatred towards him had gotten the better of him, he had grabbed his wand and said those words that could change a mans destiny forever.  
  
Avada Kedavra.  
  
Suddenly Draco turned around, ran out of the room, out of the house and out into the black night.  
  
He wasn't safe there anymore.  
  
Whether he had actually seen his father or not, he wasn't safe anymore. 


	6. Nightmares

Chapter Six  
  
Nightmares  
  
"The first visitor must've been Draco," Hermione said for the ninety ninth time while she was thoughtfully licking one of Florean Fortescues ice- creams.  
  
It was the next day, early in the morning, and Hermione and Harry were sitting at Florean Fortescues ice-cream bar and thinking over all the clues. The sun was shining brightly and that was worrying Harry. If the weather wouldn't get worse, they would open the airports again and Draco would be able to get out of the country.  
  
"I agree with you, it must be him," Harry said. "But who was the other one?"  
  
"Well, obviously, a Death Eater who's after him," Hermione said in a tone that said that it is perfectly obvious.  
  
"But we don't have the Activity Map," Harry lowered his head and drew a finger along the table lines. "We can't find him or the Death Eater."  
  
As Hermione ate the waffle of the ice-cream, she thought about all the possibilities and finally decided to speak again.  
  
"Maybe we don't have a magical map," Hermione agreed. "But I have a simple Muggle map. And on it we could most definitely find the most deserted and poor areas of London. We could give it a shot."  
  
Harry thought over it. He had already given up on finding Draco, but he didn't want to disappoint Hermione, he knew how much she wanted to find him.  
  
"All right then, let's give it a shot," he sighed. Hermione nodded and pulled out a map from her backpack, a map over London. She unfolded it and placed it over the table.  
  
"Okay, let's see," she traced her point finger along the Map and stopped over the SoHo area. "This is the best place to start," she finally said and looked up at Harry. "SoHo is the poorest part of London and if he's hiding somewhere, it should be there. I can't think of anything else."  
  
Harry eyed the map. Maybe he shouldn't give up this easily and even if he did, he wouldn't show it to Hermione. She was counting on him, on his help. "Fine, let's try this then," he said with a hint of determination in his voice and stood up from the table. Hermione grinned broadly and followed his example, folding the map first and putting it back in the backpack.  
  
"Let's," she grinned and was almost buzzing with anticipation. She would find Draco and help him, make him understand that running away from his problems isn't a solution. She would help him.  
  
And she knew he loved her. She knew it.  
  
  
  
As soon as Draco closed his eyes, he could see that so familiar pale face staring at him through that window and he felt how cold chills ran down his spine.  
  
God, this was not happening. Was his ghost coming back to haunt him?  
  
No, that wasn't a ghost. It was pale, but it wasn't transparent. His hair, his eyes, his clothes. no, everything was real.  
  
Alive. His father was alive. Lucius Malfoy was alive.  
  
But how? How could he be alive when he had killed him? The Avada Kedavra Spell never failed, it had never failed to work on anyone except for Harry Potter. And Draco knew perfectly well how to use it, his father had taught him that early in his life. Ironical, wasn't it? Lucius Malfoy taught his own son how to kill him.  
  
And Draco had done it, he had no regrets. He had hated his father and he was glad that he was dead.  
  
He had tortured Hermione, right in front of him. He had laughed, he had enjoyed to see the blood running down her face, enjoyed to hear her horrible, painful screams.  
  
But Draco couldn't take it. His father had tortured his mother and now this. The girl he loved.  
  
He had no regrets when he pulled out his wand and pointed it towards his father, he knew perfectly well what he was doing. With hatred in his voice he shouted out those deadly words, seen his fathers body fall down to the cold dungeon floor, with a sadistic grin on his lips he watched how his fathers cold blue eyes stared at him in disbelief, even if he was already dead.  
  
Because he was dead. He was dead for Gods sake!  
  
But then who. Polyjuice Potion? Did someone find him and now tried to scare him by turning into his late father, make him turn himself in to the Death Eaters?  
  
He didn't know but they wouldn't scare him. No, no matter what that was, he wouldn't give up, not now. He was only a few steps away from freedom. They would never find him in Egypt.  
  
Draco's thoughts continued to return to that night at Malfoy Mansion, in the dungeons.  
  
The only thing he coud never forget is the fear in Hermiones eyes as she looked at him and then at the dead body on the floor. And then she laughed, a hysterical, lifeless laugh. That had been more terrifying than anything, to see her laugh like that.  
  
But she forgave him, she still loved him. She knew that he had changed, that he would never do something like that again, the Nightmares at the Malfoy Mansion had been enough to make Draco think. That was why he freed Harry. And he would always be grateful to Harry because he was the one who freed him from his Dark Mark.  
  
But he could never confess to Hermione that he loved her. He did, but he loved her too much to drag her into his messed life. She deserved someone much better than that. She deserved Harry. Harry was loved, Harry was a hero. Even Voldemort was scared of him now, now when he had his necklace. And Harry loved Hermione, he would take care of her. He would do something Draco couldn't.  
  
Draco sighed and looked up at the sky. He had slept between a few dustinbins in a SoHo alley tonight and he had barely dared to move the whole night.  
  
The sky was without even one cloud and the sun was shining brightly and cheerily down at him, almost mocking and teasing him. He was in a very dark period of his life, even if the darkest was already behind him. And the sun was shining so brightly, as if sending her regards and telling that there are no worries in this world, that everything is perfect.  
  
But it wasn't perfect, it was never perfect. Specially not now.  
  
But the advance with the sun was that if the weather wouldn't change, they would open the airports and he would be able to get out of here once and for all, he knew that.  
  
His eyes wandered down from the sky to the alley and the dirt all around him. He glanced at a dustbin that was to his right and his gaze stopped at a piece of a mirror.  
  
He stood up slowly and reached out his hand for the mirror. He picked it up carefully, not to cut himself on the sharp edges. He hesitated for a moment, he had no idea how he looked like. He hadn't eaten anything for days and he knew that his clothes were a mess. Still, he had to know how he looked like and he had to know if he could do anything about his looks, how to make them a bit better. He had to look normal if he would try to get out of the country the Muggle way.  
  
Slowly he turned around the mirror and stared at his reflection. Was that really him? That face, as pale as a ghosts with spots of dirt all over it. Those dark, wide, hungry and tired eyes. He looked so hunted, so unhappy. Was this the way Hermione had seen him? God, he hoped that the answer was no.  
  
He ran his fingers through his messed up hair, tried to fix it somehow. He brushed his hands against his cheeks, making his face look not so pale. He started to brush off the dust and dirt from his clothes. He couldn't show up like this at the muggle airport.  
  
Suddenly Draco stopped.  
  
Oh Damn.  
  
Money.  
  
He slipped his hand into a pocket and felt that the satchel of Galleons and Sickles was still there. But that was Wizard money, he had to change it into Muggle.  
  
A Bank.  
  
He closed his eyes and tried to remember a name his father had once mentioned as they were in London. That was the Bank that secretly cooperated with Gringotts and exchanged money.  
  
Brittish Central State Bank.  
  
At Gringotts you can change Muggle money into Wizard. Then why couldn't you do the opposite at a Brittish Central?  
  
He had to give it a try, without Muggle money he wouldn't be able to get out of here.  
  
Draco stopped to dust himself off and held up the slice of mirror once again. He didn't look much better, but maybe this will do. It had to do.  
  
  
  
Hermione and Harry walked down the dirty streets of SoHo, looking around carefully.  
  
"This is a large area," Hermione finally said after a long pause of silence.  
  
"You've never been here, have you," Harry stated. Hermione shook her head.  
  
"No, that's right, I haven't. I've only lived in London for a short while and I've spent the most of my year at Hogwarts. The summer is still young and I've spent the most of it at home."  
  
"You've barried your nose in your novels and other books just to forget about him," Harry said quietly as they walked down the street and looked around for a familiar tall blonde boy or someone who might match the description Tom gave them of the Activity Map thief and the possible Death Eater.  
  
Hermione didn't want to pretend and ask who Harry was talking about, both of them knew better.  
  
"Yes, I guess so," she sighed as she watched an old lady cross the street. "I hadn't seen him for a year but memory of him kept on hunting me. The only thing that could save me was my own created fantasy world. Everything changed though after that night when he came to me. I know it might sound silly Harry, but I saw that he was in need of help, even if he didn't want to admit it himself, he tried to keep his mask and pretend to look as if nothing had happened, but he was in pain and he was tired to death that night. The fact that he ran away obviously means that he's scared. They are after him, Harry, you know that better than I do."  
  
Harry furrowed a brow and looked at her, glancing at the other side of the street at the same time.  
  
"Why do you think that? You know him better than I do."  
  
"I'm not so sure about that," Hermione said doubtfully. "I thought I knew him better too but I might be wrong. We don't have a bond like you two do."  
  
"A bond?" Harry looked at her.  
  
"He saved you. You saved him. That kind of thing bonds two Wizards or Witches together forever, it's a magical bond. Remember, Dumbledore told you that when you saved Wormtail."  
  
"I didn't save him on purpose," Harry said through grit teeth and his eyes flashed dangerously. To be remembered of the traitor who was responsible for his parents death was never soothing.  
  
"That's exactly my point," Hermione said and calmed down slightly as she saw the warning in Harry's eyes. "You didn't save Draco on purpose either, but that still bonds you, no matter you want it or not. And that might help us."  
  
"I know, I know, you've told me this already," Harry said a bit impatiently. "He might listen to me. But look Hermione, if he ever is going to listen to me, we have to find him first. We have to split up and search for him in the darkest alleys."  
  
Hermione nodded. "You're right. I'll cross the street and go that way," she pointed to her right at a street that was crossing theirs.  
  
"All right. I'll meet you in a hour, right here," Harry said. "If you find anything." he hesitated slightly. They couldn't use their wands, how could she contact him without using her wand? Suddenly he got an idea. He looked down at the Necklace of the Light that was hanging on his neck, looking so innocent. From experience he knew that when someone else touched his Necklace, he felt a twinge right in the area where his heart was. Hermione would touch it and he would feel it.  
  
He took it off his neck and put it around Hermione's.  
  
"Harry." she said.  
  
"Be careful with it and don't touch it unless you've found him or anything else that might be useful," he said and removed his fingertips from her neck as if he got burned. For a moment he felt his heart ache, but not because she had touched the necklace. Some old, forgotten feelings suddenly surged through him, things he hadn't felt for a long time, a year. And they disappeared just as quickly as they appeared.  
  
"This necklace is dangerous to walk around with if you're not me," he continued in a low voice. "But it's the only way you can contact me. So be careful with it," he repeated.  
  
Hermione nodded. "Okay, I will Harry. But how are you going to contact me if you find anything?" she asked suddenly.  
  
"I'll think of something," he smiled at her. "Now, if you want to find him, go."  
  
"Okay, I'll see you in a hour," she said and looked at him for the last time. Then she turned around and walked over to the other side of the street, then disappearing in the people mass.  
  
  
  
Draco got out of the alley he was hiding at and tried to blend in with the rest of the people mass. He hid his face as good as he could with his black cloak and looked around slowly, but very carefully, looking out for any sign of trouble. Just to be on the safe side, he bent his knees slightly to hide his real length. As he was walking by a couple of people who were sitting on the stairs of a building and listening to the radio, he heard a voice coming from it and he was smart enough to understand that it was a radio commentator. He stopped for a moment and leaned against a wall, preteding to rest.  
  
"Well people," the male voice said. "I think I can speak for all of us when I say that I'm greatly relieved. Now that the airports are open again and back in business, people can finally go home! And the Weather Central aslo report tha there will be no storms whatsoever! They're still trying to figure out why Brittan had to experience these great weather changes and I must say that I'd like to know the reason too. Never in the whole history of Britan has there been such terrible weather. People have been living without power for weeks! But, I think that we should put all that behind us, don't you agree? All right, here's a happy tune for everyone out there that might get you in the up-mood. 'Walking On The Sunshine' by Katrina and the Waves!"  
  
Draco continued to walk. So the airports were open now, he didn't have to wait for another minute. All he needed was to get to the Bank and then to the airport. And then, hopefully, he would be able to put all of this behind him.  
  
  
  
Hermione scanned the people mass, desperately trying to find him. But people just walked past her and no one even looked at her once. Most of the people here looked tired, some even sleepy. They were probably on their way to work. They were people who never got anything easy, they had to fight for everything. And Hermione admired them because once her parents had been just like that.  
  
But she didn't had time for this, she had to find Draco. She knew he was here somewhere, she felt it.  
  
  
  
Draco continued to walk down the street and looked carelessly at the people in front of him.  
  
Suddenly his eyes widened as he noticed a girl who was going in the opposite direction directly towards him.  
  
Hermione.  
  
Her eyes were frantically searching through the people's faces as she continued to walk, she even stopped a few people and asked them something quietly. They just shook their heads and answered abruptly and continued their way.  
  
What was she doing here? How could she find him?  
  
Draco's heart ached.  
  
Of course she would find him, she was Hermione. She would always find a way, never give up.  
  
But he couldn't let her see him.  
  
He hid his face in the black cloak even more and bent his knees slightly again. She was walking right towards him and he couldn't move away, the people were all around him and he had no other choice but to continue to walk right towards her. God, he prayed that she wouldn't stop him.  
  
  
  
As Hermione walked right past him, their shoulders touched and a jolt of electricty shot through the both of them. Draco started to walk faster and didn't look back, while Hermione stopped and looked around to see where the black figure disappeared. But he was already lost in the crowd.  
  
She shrugged, as if trying to shake off the strange feeling. However, she looked back over her shoulder once again. But he was gone. Maybe it was him.? This strange feeling. Electricity. That's how she felt when he took her into his arms or just touched her.  
  
"Draco!" she screamed out and several people turned their heads to look at her.  
  
  
  
But not he. He didn't walk faster anymore, he didn't want to attract more attention.  
  
He wouldn't look back. He couldn't. As he heard her scream out his name, he thought he would die, he wanted to turn around and run to her, he didn't want to be without her.  
  
But he couldn't.  
  
If only he could still his racing heart.  
  
  
  
Harry entered the dark alley and looked around carefully. There was nothing special, a few tilted dustbins and a piece of a broken mirror on the ground. Old newspapers were dancing wildly in a ring because of the wind that was sweeping through the alley, also making Harry's black hair more untidy than ever.  
  
There was nothing special about this place, he was not here.  
  
Harry was just about to turn around when he noticed something tiny on the ground, only something a Seeker's eye would notice.  
  
A tiny, silvery coin.  
  
He bent down on his haunches to pick it up. He looked dumbfoundly at the coin and twirled it between his fingers.  
  
It was a silver Sickle. 


	7. Silver and Gold Coins

Chapter Seven  
  
Silver and Gold Coins.  
  
A/N: I'm sorry for taking such a long time but I've been on a break with my writing. My wonderful reviewers though made me write this chapter. Hope you like it!  
  
Harry found Hermione in the place where they had decided to meet. She was leaning against a wall and looking down at her hands as if she had never seen them before.  
  
Somehow she looked strange to him; like her body was here but her mind thousand miles away.  
  
"Hermione?" he said carefully, looking at her. She didn't answer until he had repeated himself once again.  
  
"Hmm?" she looked up at him. "Oh, hi Harry. Did you find anything?"  
  
Harry decided not to ask what was the matter with her and smiled triumphfantly, holding up the silver coin between his fingers.  
  
"I found this an alley. It's a Sickle."  
  
"A Sickle." she repeated and reached out for it. "Wizard money. It must've been him then."  
  
"Exactly," Harry nodded. "But- What do you mean? Did you see him or someone who looked like him?"  
  
Hermione hesitated for a moment. "I'm not sure," she replied. "I never saw his face, in fact, I barely saw him at all. He disappeared as soon as I wanted to take a closer look at him."  
  
"Where did you see this person, out on the streets?" Harry asked.  
  
Hermione nodded. "Yeah. But. It was more the feeling when our shoulders touched when we walked past each other that made me suspect that it was Draco."  
  
Harry furrowed a brow and Hermione blushed as she saw his face expression.  
  
"Well it's a. unexplainable feeling. It was like something or someone had set my body on fire, it was like electricity. I felt so warm and.," she paused and looked away. "That's the way I feel every time I feel his touch," she finished uneasily.  
  
That's the way I feel every time I feel your touch, a thought flashed through Harry's mind. Where did it came from? It disappeared as quickly as the wind.  
  
"I see," he finally said. "Well, maybe it was him then. It certainly must've been him there in that alley," he said. "Because there aren't many wizards around here in this neighbourhood."  
  
"What about that man who tried to steal the Activity Map?" Hermione asked, looking at Draco. "Couldn't it have been him?"  
  
Harry shrugged with his shoulders. "It might have. But I doubt it. Wizards like him wouldn't leave clues behind them."  
  
"Well, anyway, this is the only clue we have," Hermione sighed and looked down at the Sickle in her hand. "What are we supposed to do with it?"  
  
Just as Harry was about to answer, there was a strong breeze of wind and several newspapers darted down the street in a wild dance, one of them falling right onto Harry's face. He grabbed it with his hand and pulled it away from him, staring at the large headline:  
  
"No more thunderstorms - the Airports are open for business again!"  
  
"The Airport," Harry said suddenly.  
  
"What about it-" Hermione started, but then stopped abruptly and gazed at Harry. "You mean that-" Harry nodded. "Should we-" Harry nodded again. Hermione stood up. "Well then let's go!" she exclaimed. Harry folded the newspaper with another nodd and the both of them broke into a run.  
  
  
  
Draco entered the Brittish Central State Bank, feeling very out of place. People all around him were looking very important, wearing their suits and holding their portfolios and all of them looked very muggle-ish.  
  
What was he doing here after all? In a muggle bank?  
  
In a muggle bank who was cooperating with Gringotts, he reminded himself as he glanced around nervously.  
  
He looked up and noticed that there was a second floor and you could get there by several small staircases. The floors weren't separated with walls and the ceiling was very high. It was made from glass and Draco could see the blue sky through it. The grand chandalier that was hanging from the ceiling was the final touch.  
  
Suddenly a thought hit him.  
  
What if the Death Eaters that were after him were here? Maybe they knew he was in need of muggle money, maybe they knew he was about to leave the country on a muggle aeroplain.  
  
He looked around at everyone who passed, trying to recognize a Death Eater. He had seen them all, he knew how they looked like, all of them.  
  
But they knew how he looked like too.  
  
He looked around and wasn't able to recognize anyone. He couldn't stand here like this much longer, it would look suspicious.  
  
His gaze fell on a booth and on the letters above it.  
  
"Money Exchange", it said.  
  
He had to do this, he had to get out of here.  
  
With determined steps, he started to walk towards the booth. A young male in his twenties, with black hair and brown, nervous eyes looked at Draco through his glasses. The name shield on his suit said to Draco that his name was 'Peter Johnson'.  
  
"Hello Sir, welcome to the Central State Bank. How can we help you?" the man named Peter asked politely and looked at the sixteen year old boy.  
  
"Er, yes," Draco said and suddenly found his tongue completely twisted. He reached into his pocket for his satchel with Galleons and Sickles. "I'd like to exchange this into. pounds," he said, remembering the word his father had named. His father. His late father.  
  
He placed the satchel carefully on the table and looked up at the male who stared down at the money. He picked a gold coin out of the bag and his eyes got even wider as he realized that it was pure gold. He looked from the coins to Draco and his face expression just got weired.  
  
"E-excuse me for a moment," he finally said and let his booth in great hurry, still clutching the gold coin in his palm.  
  
Draco followed him with his eyes and he got nervous for any minute now. What if he was off to his boss, thinking that he has been robbing a museum or something?  
  
The nervousity increased and his muscles seemed to migrate to his feet. Suddenly he turned around and started to walk faster out of there. He was about to break into a run when a voice behind his back made him stop.  
  
"Hey, Mister!"  
  
Draco turned around and saw Peter Johnson standing at his booth with an older, very important looking man with a mustache standing behind his back. A few other 'suits' were glancing from Draco to the Bank workers and Draco had no other choice than to return back to the 'Money Exchange' booth.  
  
The very important looking man looked down at Draco with a slight smile playing in the corners of his lips.  
  
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mister-"  
  
"Thornton," Draco said the first name that came into his mind. "Chris Thornton."  
  
"Mister Thornton," the man nodded politely. "My name is 'enrich 'olmstein and I'm ze Brittish Central State Bank manager."  
  
"Oh," Draco said.  
  
"I understand that you wanted to exchange zis money to pounds," Henrich continued to speak with a light accent and held up the gold Galleon. Draco nodded. He was so nervous he didn't even know what to say. Now they would arrest him for robbing a museum or something and he would never get out of the country.  
  
Great plan, Draco, he thought angrily. How are you going to get out of this one?  
  
But Henrich just smiled. "Please, if you could follow me, Mister Thornton," he waved a hand towards the stairs that led up to the next floor and then looked at Peter. "You can go back to work now, Peter," he said and the bank worker nodded.  
  
"Yes sir," he said and turned around, walking back the few steps to his booth and to the line of people who were waiting for their turn.  
  
Draco nodded again and followed Henrich. What wasn't he calling the guards? Oh, he probably wanted to perform the arrest quietly and not scare away the people, Draco decided. Yeah, that must be it. However, as Peter handed Draco the rest of the satchel, still filled with the Wizard Money, Draco got confused, even if he didn't show it and followed Henrich up the stairs. Why were they giving it back to him?  
  
Henrich Holmstein lead Draco through the second floor which was much less crowdy. There were offices everywhere. The walls were painted in white, just like the walls in the first floor. The floor itself here was different though. While it was parquett in the first floor, here it was white marmor that was almost hidden by the black and white striped carpet. The Bank manager opened the door to his office and lead Draco inside.  
  
"Please sit down, Mister Thornton," Henrich waved towards the chair that was placed on the other side of his desk while he sat down in the chair behind his desk. Draco did as he was told and sat down, looking at the Bank Manager carefully.  
  
There was a moment of silence.  
  
"So you're a Wizard," Henrich said, smiling at the boy. Draco let out a sigh of relief.  
  
"Thank Merlin, I thought I had gotten the wrong Bank!" he exclaimed. "You cooperate with Gringotts Wizard Bank, don't you?"  
  
Henrich nodded. "Yes we do. I couldn't tell you anything, Mister Thronton, until we were alone. You see, none of the bank workers know about this, only a very few people do. There aren't many Wizards who come here to exchange money, that's why we thought we should keep this deal as quiet as possible."  
  
Draco nodded. "I understand. But please, I'm in a hurry, could you please exchange the Wizard Money I have into pounds?"  
  
"Certainly Mister Thornton," Henrich said as he stood up. He took the satchel of Galleons from Draco and walked out of his office, saying that he would be back in a few minutes. And Draco really didn't have to wait long; Henrich was back soon, holding in his hands a small fortune. When he gave the money to Draco, the lastnamed almost wanted to hug the man. He felt so relieved and so happy right now; they hadn't arrested him and everything had worked out fine; and soon he would be out of here, out of this country and away from his nightmares. He had not seen any sign of Death Eaters today and it troubled him slightly; he couldn't believe that they would give up that easily, not judging from the way they had tried to scare him with the image of his father.  
  
But Draco didn't care. He was too lightheaded to worry about that, nothing could stop him now. Just in a few hours.  
  
He had to gather all his mental strength not to literally fly out of the Brittish Central State Bank.  
  
  
  
The airport was huge and it was crowded with people who were hurrying to their flights or trying to get through the mass and to the exit.  
  
People, people, people. Women, men, children, laughter, crying, low and high voices, the sound of the guitar-playing man in the corner, the female voice announcing when the next flight is arriving or deporting. Bags, bags, suitcases, portfolios. Everything all around him. He was sure that it wouldn't be easy to find him here in this crowd if anyone would try to look for him.  
  
He tossed a coin at the guitar-playing man and got a toothless smile in return. Draco didn't know he had just given him a pound.  
  
He wrapped himself tighter in his cloak and looked at the watch. His flight would be leaving in twenty minutes. Twenty minutes. Why did the time go so slowly? When you needed it to go as fast as a lightning bolt, why did it felt like it was moving like a snail?  
  
Only twenty minutes. Patience Draco, patience.  
  
He was tired. So tired. All he wanted to do is to sit there in that plane and sleep through the whole flight, only waking up when he's in Egypt. He would fly over the pyramids...  
  
He whistled a little tune to cheer himself up and stuffed his hands in his pockets as he looked around at the people.  
  
A tall couple stood right in front of him and he just wanted to ask them to move out of his way to get a better view when...  
  
The tune he was whistling on stopped and he froze as he kept his eyes fixated on two people who were headed his way, but still hadn't seen him. Two very familiar people. Harry and Hermione were making their way through the crowd, obviously looking for him. He swore and ducked behind the couple, quickly starting to think out a plan.  
  
The only plan he could think of was to get out of here as soon as possible.  
  
Those sneaky little detectives just couldn't leave him alone. Why had he ever told Harry that he wanted to go to Egypt? Now he would have to pay for it. If they'd catch him, he would... No, he couldn't think like that.  
  
Why did they care so much about him anyway?  
  
Or did they care?  
  
He started to step backwards, continuing to look at Harry and Hermione, abruptly apologizing to anyone he stepped on.  
  
Suddenly he bumped into someone and lost his balance, tripping and falling down to the ground.  
  
He started to panick now, he was drawing attention to himself.  
  
Get out of here...  
  
He started to get up and finally looked at the person he had bumped into.  
  
"Uh, I'm sorry-"  
  
The Ghost.  
  
The pain.  
  
The terrifying pain that was filling his left forearm, spreading through his vains to the rest of the body, making him scream out.  
  
His vision started to get blurry. He could see people all around him talking, whispering, looking at him, but he just looked at the Ghost.  
  
He could feel how someone was holding him up now and he could hear a very familiar voice whispering his name...  
  
"Draco, Draco, can you hear me? Are you all right?"  
  
"Father," he whispered.  
  
And then his final strength left him and he closed his eyes, blacking out. 


	8. Through The Door

Chapter Eight  
  
Through the Door.  
  
  
  
"Father," he whispered.  
  
Hermione's eyes opened and she looked at the boy who was lying in her bed. His skin was as white as a sheet and his silvery blond hair was now almost grey. He was breathing uneasily and his body was twisting and turning in his sleep as if he was dreaming a nightmare. Hermione wasn't even able to get the clothes off him when she had tried. He would just hold onto her so hard she thought he would break her fingers.  
  
"How can you be alive?" he whispered. "I killed you. I killed you. I- No, no, please no, father. Not the curse. Not- not the cur-"  
  
He let out a scream just as Hermione touched his shoulder, trying to wake him up. His eyes shut open and he breathed heavily, his body cold sweating.  
  
"Draco," she whispered. "Finally, you're awake."  
  
He looked at her nervously. "What- Hermione? Wh-where am I?"  
  
"Calm down," she cooed and slid into the bed, wrapping her arms around him, letting his head rest on her chest as he still breathed heavily. "It was just a nightmare. Calm down now. Here, have a glass of water," she offered him the glass that was placed on the night table.  
  
He refused to take it and shook his head. "I- no. I have to get out of here. I have to-"  
  
"You are not going anywhere," a voice said from the opposite side of the room. Draco looked up and his eyes locked with Harry's.  
  
"You," Draco said.  
  
"Hello to you too," Harry said nonchalantly, still leaning against the door jam with his arms crossed over his chest. "A beautiful day, isn't it?"  
  
Draco sneered, a pale ghost from his usual masterpiece. He jumped out of the bed, making some of the water in Hermione's hands splash out of the glass and over the sheets.  
  
"I have to get out of here," he whispered and ran his fingers frantically through his hair. He looked around. "My cloak, where's my cloak? The flight ticket... Money..."  
  
"You missed your flight," Hermione said, standing up from the bed. "Remember? You passed out at the airport. We found you lying on the floor, screaming. Can you image what we have been going through to find you? No of course you can't, you just-"  
  
"The Ghost," Draco whispered and looked at his hands.  
  
"What?" Harry raised an eyebrow. Draco looked up at him.  
  
"Didn't you see it?" he asked suddenly. "A... a dark hooded figure. He... he lowered his hood and..."  
  
"And what?" Hermione whispered, looking at him with a worried face expression.  
  
Draco shook his head, avoiding her gaze. "Nevermind. So you didn't see him?"  
  
Both Hermione and Harry shook their heads slowly, glancing at each other and shrugging.  
  
"All we saw were the people surrounding you, none of them a dark hoodded figure, and you screaming and clutching your left arm," Harry said with a grin. "Why were you doing that by the way?"  
  
"None of your damn business Potter," Draco muttered as he scanned the room for the cloak, completely ignoring Harry and especially Hermione. He couldn't look into her eyes. He just couldn't. He also tried to ignore the pain in his left forearm but that was even was harder because it felt as if it was on fire. "Now, for the second time, where the hell is my cloak."  
  
"For the second time, and hopefully the last, you're not going any-"  
  
"Harry," Hermione said softly and weakly. Harry stopped and looked at Hermione with a questioning look on his face. Draco turned away and looked out through the window but he could see her reflection in it. He just couldn't close his eyes when he saw that same bushy brown hair, lips, face... But her eyes. Her eyes were different. They were so sad. Hopeless. As if she had given up on something that meant very much to her.  
  
"Draco," she whispered to his back and his heart leaped.  
  
He didn't answer. He gathered all his mental and physical strength not to turn around, cry out her name, wrap his arms around her, breathe her in, kiss her lips, feel her arms sliding around him...  
  
He couldn't. This can't happen. He had to get out of here. For his own sake and theirs. He had to protect them, make them stay out of this.  
  
"For the last time," Draco said through grit teeth and looked sternly out through the window as his hands were curled into fists. "Where is my cloak."  
  
There was a moment of silence.  
  
"It's in the hallway, neatly folded and placed on a chair," Hermione said quietly.  
  
Draco hesitated for a moment. And then he walked out of the room, neatly closing the door behind him.  
  
  
  
Harry and Hermione remained staying and didn't move. They looked silently at each other. A slight smile appeared in Hermione's lips and Harry grinned wider, his green eyes sparkling.  
  
"Three..." Harry said.  
  
"Two," Hermione said.  
  
"One," they both said at the same time.  
  
The door swung open and Draco stood there, his cloak in his hands.  
  
"The ticket, you kidnappers," he growled, looking at the both of them. "And my money."  
  
Hermione walked over to him and brushed his cheek softly, looking straight into his eyes and smiling.  
  
"You are not going anywhere until you tell us what is going on," Hermione said softly, but with a determined tone in her voice. "And until we tell you what we know and how we think we can help you."  
  
Draco avoided her gaze and looked outside the window. Her hand felt so soft against his skin. He closed his eyes and swallowed, trying to block all the feelings out, trying to get a grip over the situation...  
  
"Hermione, you don't know what you're getting into," he whispered frantically. His hand wandered up to her face by itself and he opened his eyes. "I... I have to protect you from this," his hand brushed her cheek softly now, his fingertips trailing over her soft skin. "Herm, you CAN'T get involved. I swear, I don't care what I have to do to keep you out of this. I love you and-"  
  
Hermione interrupted him by leaning forward and kissing him deeply as she brought her hands up to his face, putting all the passion and love she had for him in the kiss. Draco couldn't control himself. His instincts, his love for her took over and he wrapped her tightly in his arms, kissing her back passionately, holding her like he never wanted to let her go again.  
  
Harry looked away and closed his eyes.  
  
He knew that this would happen. He knew it. Yet... he wasn't prepared.  
  
He walked slowly over to the door and walked through it. Before he closed it behind him, he looked at them, whispering:  
  
"I'm going to leave you alone now."  
  
He was pretty sure they didn't hear him or the door closing.  
  
  
  
"Harry," Hermione whispered after fifteen minutes when she opened the door and saw that he was about to leave. He gave her a weak smile and zipped up his jacket.  
  
"Yes, Hermione?"  
  
She walked through the door and closed it behind her, walking over to him with a sad glint in her eyes.  
  
"He's staying," she whispered and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms and looking at him sadly. "And now you're leaving. Why?"  
  
Harry sighed and leaned his forehead against the cool surface of the door. "Hermione," he whispered, his hands seizing the door handle. "I helped you to get back Draco. My two weeks with you are up. I have to get back now."  
  
"So- so that's it?" she whispered. "You know we're going to need help. I can't help him alone. He's up against You-Know-Who for Merlins sake and you're the only one who can stop him, you have the medal..."  
  
Harry nodded silently, removed the necklace off his neck and gave it to Hermione. "Take care of it well," he said quietly. "Draco only needs you. You are the smartest witch at Hogwarts, Hermione Granger, and you know it. Take care of yourself... and him. I'll see you at Hogwarts."  
  
He pushed down the door handle.  
  
"Harry," she whispered.  
  
Harry closed the door neatly behind him and leaned against the door again, almost hearing Hermione's soft breathing on the other side. He closed his eyes.  
  
"I'm sorry Herm but I can't do this," he whispered and walked down the stairs, out in the crowded London streets.  
  
He still loved her. 


End file.
